


Adaptive Expectations

by zuzeca



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dildos, Fingerfucking, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Oral Sex, Other, Spark Bond, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex, Strap-Ons, Tribadism, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuzeca/pseuds/zuzeca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orion Pax sets out to seduce Megatronus and learns a lesson about making assumptions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A kinkmeme fill for [this prompt](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=13757184#t13757184), which requested a valve-only Orion Pax and Megatronus learning to navigate their equipment together, with a side order of restrictive gladiator sexual mores and bonus seal-breaking. In short, it ate my brain and this was the result. Enjoy.

Megatronus was late.

Orion checked his chronometer, his spark pulsing with nervousness, and resisted the urge to rearrange the cups and decanter of high grade for the fifth time that offcycle. Clasping his hands to stop them from trembling, he seated himself at the tiny table and tried to calm his spiking systems.

It was likely nothing, he told himself. Megatronus might have run into traffic, or been stopped for questioning by the Iacon Security Forces. His meeting with Soundwave might have run long.

Or he might have reconsidered his answer to Orion’s stuttered offer of a meal together.

No, he couldn’t permit himself to think such things. Megatronus, even if he were capable of such cruelty, was not one to gentle a blow, whether in the arena or in his personal life. If he’d decided a little slip of an archivist was beneath his notice, he would have told Orion outright.

He wished he could reign in his excitement, but the idea of finally spending time with Megatronus in private, of having that powerful awareness turned on _him_ , and only him, was enough to set Orion’s spark fluttering.

He only hoped he wasn’t projecting, that the flicker of warmth and interest in Megatronus’s field when he’d blurted out his request hadn’t been imagined.

Still, he shouldn’t presume. Megatronus would come, and they would drink and talk and things would happen, or they wouldn’t. 

And all those cycles he’d spent practicing with the prosthetic device hidden under his berth would be for naught.

Well perhaps not for _naught_ , Orion thought, his systems revving slightly and his valve giving a pleasant clench. One could hardly call the processor-blowing overloads a waste of time. But considering that it was unexpected, overwhelming attraction to Megatronus that had convinced him to purchase the device in the first place, had given him the courage to expand his sexual horizons, break his seal and keep going through those first awkward joors until he learned the depth and speed and angle that he liked and how slagging _amazing_ having something in his valve could be, considering it was Megatronus’s designation he’d choked out when he’d overloaded…

He would be lying if he said he wouldn’t be disappointed.

He’d even chosen the size to match Megatronus’s equipment, in spite of the raised optic ridges and the doubtful, appraising look he’d gotten from the bot he’d purchased it from; presuming of course, Megatronus was proportional.

Primus, Orion hoped he was proportional.

Quieting the flux of his field, he gave an uncomfortable squirm as he felt his valve priming itself and tried to put his thoughts elsewhere. It wouldn’t do to fling himself at Megatronus the moment he walked through the door.

A knock at the door of his flat had him leaping to his feet. He froze, momentarily torn between the idea of rushing to open it and conducting himself with more composure. Shaking off the paralysis, he cleared his vocalizer of static and said, “Coming.”

He congratulated himself that his voice didn’t shake.

Megatronus filled the entirety of his doorway and then some, looking rather like one of the boxed gladiator figurines that one could purchase in the Iacon market shops, right down to the uncomfortable scowl on his face. “Orion,” he rumbled. “Soundwave kept me longer than I anticipated.” His tone indicated he was less than pleased with this fact.

Not quite an apology, but it warmed Orion nonetheless. Stepping back to welcome Megatronus into his home, he smiled. “I thought that might be the case. Please come in.”

Megatronus ducked through the door, angling himself so that the wicked spikes of his shoulder guards did not scrape the lintel. The door whooshed closed and Orion ushered him to the table. Megatronus sat and accepted a cup of high grade graciously, though he seemed rather ill at ease as he looked around Orion’s apartment. “You have a lovely home.”

The compliment sounded sincere, but Orion’s spark suddenly dropped. Mortified embarrassment rose in him because he’d glimpsed Megatronus’s home, the small dank cells, bare and lifeless and he was stuck between the selfish urge to apologize for bringing Megatronus here at all and the urgent desire not to humiliate him. “Thank you,” he managed, slinking to his own chair and taking his cup of high grade. “You…you look very nice.”

It wasn’t an empty remark. Megatronus’s plating gleamed as Orion didn’t realize it could gleam, reflecting the lights in Orion’s apartment from every keen edge, and he smelled faintly of fresh wax. Orion longed to run his hands across the great plates guarding Megatronus’s chassis and discover if they were as slickly glossy as they appeared.

Megatronus’s scowl deepened. “Soundwave insisted. He indicated that it was unacceptable to attend a personal function without a proper wash and wax.”

Orion’s ventilation hitched. “And is this then, a personal function?”

Megatronus studied him, his blue optics sharp. “You tell me,” he said quietly.

And evasion, uncharacteristic for Megatronus. Orion still didn’t know how to grok the peculiar nervousness in Megatronus’s field, but he decided his best bet was honesty. “Yes,” he said. “What form it will take, however, is up to you. If you wish for a quiet evening between friends, I will welcome that.” He cleared his vocalizer and summoned up his courage. “If you wish for something more, I will welcome that as well.”

Megatronus’s optics brightened and his field swelled with desire, the powerful buzz breaking over Orion like a wave and vibrating against his sensors. Orion shivered and took another drink of the high grade to steady himself.

Megatronus set down his own cup, his expression pensive. “Why?” he said. “Do you wish to lie with a gladiator? Because there are others—” He broke off as though he’d swallowed something bitter and forced himself onwards. “There are others who might satisfy you better.”

Orion carefully did not let his puzzlement show in his field. “No,” he said gently. “Because I have never met a mech who makes my spark sing as you do.”

Shock flashed across Megatronus’s face. “You,” he paused and shook his head. “You are a poet, Orion Pax. Once again you manage to surprise me.”

Orion set aside his cup and laid his arm across the table, his palm turned upwards. “I do not want to ask for anything you do not wish to give, Megatronus. I only want to share myself with you, in safety and trust. Is that desire mutual?” 

Megatronus’s hand engulfed his, clawed fingers winding around Orion’s with the caution of one used to their environment not withstanding their strength. “It is,” he said hoarsely, his field still humming with strange hesitance shot through with excitement. “Unmaker take me, it is.”

Orion lifted their joined hands and nuzzled against the heavy armor on Megatronus’s knuckles. “Join me in the berth?” he said, the pulse of warmth at Megatronus’s response making him strangely bold.

Megatronus shivered. “Yes.”

He rose, sudden, and Orion found himself nearly yanked across the table as several tons of mass moved in counter to his own. His free hand flailed, narrowly avoiding knocking over the cups of high grade and Megatronus hastily let him go, mumbling curses and what might have been an apology. Orion laughed as he found his feet again.

“Here,” he said breathlessly, moving around the table and reaching for Megatronus, his field pulsing out how Megatronus’s strength impressed rather than frightened him and how much Orion wanted him.

Megatronus puffed slightly under the praise and scooped Orion up with ease, bringing him to nestle against his chassis. Orion hummed with pleasure and rubbed his face against the plating under him, and though his cheek caught against the ridges of scars, the spaces in between them were as glossy as he thought they’d be. “Beautiful,” he said, drawing the glyph out, long and reverent, tracing a particularly deep scar with the tip of his glossa.

“Not so,” said Megatronus, bracing Orion on the platform of his forearm guard and stroking his dorsal plating with his free hand. His touch raised trails of charge in Orion’s already primed systems and he arched.

“Beautiful like an electric storm over Iacon,” Orion pressed on, choosing the image for its connotations of strength and wild unpredictability. Megatronus had little patience for flattery, but his field still spiked with embarrassed pleasure. Orion nuzzled into the crook of his neck, glossa flicking out to tease the cabling beyond the protective curve of Megatronus’s helm. “Want you over me,” he murmured into Megatronus’s audial.

Megatronus swore and Orion’s gyros leaped as he bore him back to the tiny berthroom. Orion had already taken care to expand his berth to its greatest capacity, but it still promised to be a tight fit. Megatronus deposited him on the berth and he scooted backwards to allow Megatronus room to kneel on it. The big mech’s field was awash with desire, but he still hesitated, pulsing that strange nervousness, his heavy clawed hands clenched and resting on his thighs.

Still puzzled but hoping to relax Megatronus, Orion allowed invitation to flash through his own field. “I was wondering if I might taste you?” he said, stretching out his hand but refraining from touching for the moment. “Would you like that?” 

Megatronus’s optics spiraled open and his ventilation hitched. “I—” his vocalizer spat static and something inside Orion preened that he might have this effect. “Yes, yes I would like that.” Though he did not move and his interface panel remained closed.

Putting his curiosity at Megatronus’s responses aside, Orion coaxed him to lean against the wall, delving with clever fingers between the gaps in Megatronus’s armor as he urged those huge armored legs up so that he could lie between them. It was not precisely how he’d envisioned this going, but the uncertain way Megatronus twitched and shivered as he ran his glossa across his interface hatch was just as exciting as any fantasy Orion had of being held against the wall and ravished.

Megatronus’s helm was pressed hard against the wall of the berthroom, his ventilations deep and ragged, optics fixed on Orion. His interface hatch was hot under Orion’s glossa, the edges sparking with charge. “Open for me?” Orion said, running soothing hands along Megatronus’s thighs.

Megatronus’s claws gouged the surface of the berth as his hatch slid aside.

Orion had been correct. Megatronus was proportional. But it was not a spike tucked away behind his hatch. Rather the sleek folds and plates of a valve, slick with lubricant, rimming an opening far larger than Orion’s own, were revealed. As Orion watched, the valve clenched and dilated and beyond the edges he glimpsed a delicate layer of mesh, transected by glowing microtubules of energon.

Megatronus, terror of the Kaon arena, was a valve-mech.

A sealed valve-mech.

Oh.

Oh, Primus.

Orion very carefully clamped down on his field, not letting one iota of his surprise through. Rather, he traced the edges of Megatronus’s valve with a gentle finger, stroking sensor clusters, noting the way that Megatronus tensed when he neared the opening, his processor racing.

This was not an unpleasant discovery, but it was unexpected and Orion found himself wishing he’d known in advance, that he might have rearranged his plans for the evening, or at least focused his attention on more pertinent chapters of _Solenoid’s Manual of Interfacing Techniques_.

Though in retrospect, he should have realized. 

_Megatronus had made quite clear the grievous bodily injury which would be suffered by anyone who harmed Orion, but the little archivist was still a novelty among the pits of Kaon and such threats did not stop various gladiators from making hopeful propositions._

_“If you’re holding out for a spin in Megatronus’s berth,” said a blocky mech with a construction alt that had introduced himself as ‘Demolisher’, “you’re wasting your time. Old Megs doesn’t like to ‘face.”_

_“Not at all?” Orion had said._

_“Nope,” said Demolisher. “Never takes any of the pleasure-bots that come strolling through here, or even drags one of the others back for a tumble after a match. He and the pretty spook might have a thing, I never asked, but I’ve never seen him show any interest in all the time I’ve been here.” He offered Orion a roguish wink. “So how’s about you let Old Demolisher take care of you instead?”_

Orion had heard rumors, uncovered snippets of information in the course of his research, turning to the familiarity of the records to find if there was any way of conveying his desires appropriately to Megatronus, of the strange sexual mores that sprang up among the fighting culture of the pits. It was why he’d never in his wildest dreams considered that Megatronus, the toughest and most stoic of the gladiators, would be anything other than a spike-mech. But now, faced with what was almost certainly a painfully guarded secret, Orion could feel nothing but compassion, a deep warmth at the level of trust it must have taken to bring Megatronus here, and a powerful desire to show him just how pleasurable interface could be.

Withdrawing his hand, he nuzzled into the folds of Megatronus’s valve, lubricant smearing across his face, pressing his nasal ridge against the anterior node clusters and flicking out his glossa to taste. “Thank you,” he said, pulsing out his joy and a wave of calmness which buffeted against the changeful storm of Megatronus’s field.

Hesitant claws touched the back of his helm and he purred his pleasure as he was pushed a little harder against Megatronus’s array. He licked along the rim, tracing out the folds and attending to each cluster he uncovered before probing inside, rubbing the flat of his glossa along the seal without exerting pressure on it.

Above him, Megatronus gave a core-deep shudder and his claws tightened minutely around Orion’s helm. His lubricant began to flow in earnest and his pelvic span gave a slight, aborted hitch as Orion’s glossa pressed upwards, just inside the rim.

Drowning in the scent and taste of Megatronus, Orion blindly felt for his own interface hatch, clicking it open and sliding his fingers inside himself, coaxing his lubricant to flow, his multi-thread processor already having fixed and finalized a new plan.

Megatronus’s valve dilated and Orion’s chin slipped inside, the calipers just inside the rim grasping at his face. Humming, he sucked on an anterior cluster and felt Megatronus jerk, charge crackling through the conductive lubricant and tickling Orion’s face as he overloaded. Spreading the lubricant generously across the exterior folds of his valve, Orion discreetly checked the lubrication of his own equipment before withdrawing and crawling up to align their arrays.

Megatronus’s optics glowed in the dim light of the berthroom and he was panting. He gave a little groan as Orion pressed against him, compressing the folds of his valve with his own.

“Good?” said Orion, hitching his pelvic array slightly back and forth. 

Megatronus’s bucked slightly, instinctive motion. “Yes,” he managed.

Orion couldn’t reach Megatronus’s face from this position, but he stroked his chassis as he began to thrust, gliding his valve across Megatronus’s, raising little surges of current as sensor nodes slipped against each other. Megatronus’s valve clenched before spreading open to encompass the folds of Orion’s valve and then he was inside, in a way that he’d never comprehended he could be inside, the motion slick and easy, sensor clusters gently rubbing against Megatronus’s seal at the apex of his thrusts and despite his practice Orion was hard pressed to hold back his overload as he felt Megatronus’s charge begin to build once more.

“Can’t hold on much longer,” he gasped.

Megatronus seemed to sense his intention and shifted his pelvic array, changing the angle so that Orion was rubbing directly on the anterior clusters of his valve. “Stay with me,” he said, claws hooking in Orion’s plating and Orion let out a low whine. “Almost—there!” and Orion overloaded, felt Megatronus overload, charge leaping between their arrays.

Sagging atop Megatronus, Orion rubbed his face affectionately against his chassis. “That was wonderful,” he said.

Megatronus stroked his helm and drew him close, his field pulsing amazement and quiet affection. “It was.” His expression turned regretful. “Though I cannot stay for much longer.”

Orion’s spark contracted. “Not even for the rest of offcycle?”

“No,” said Megatronus, “though I would like nothing more than to lie beside you for the next orn.” He nuzzled against Orion’s antennae. “My beautiful little clerk. You continue to astound me.”

Pushing aside his sorrow, Orion forced a smile. “I have to. Wouldn’t do to let you grow bored and forget me.”

“As if I could,” said Megatronus. He fell quiet, thinking. “My next off period is four cycles from now.”

“Would you like me to meet you at the arena?”

“No,” said Megatronus, looking about the room. “Here, I think.” His tone had a faint note of wonder in it and Orion had a sudden awareness of his home not as a mere location for sleeping and refueling, but as a place of a privacy and safety, for one who had all too little of either.

Orion nestled further into Megatronus’s side. “I can’t wait.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap-on porn, with bonus science BS about electromagnets.

“You mentioned you’d like to try something different,” said Megatronus.

“I would,” said Orion, rummaging under the berth. “Here we go.” He held up a narrow rectangular box. Tossing it onto the berth, he hopped up after it and flipped open the two small clasps, turning the box so Megatronus could see its contents.

It was a lovely custom piece and had required five orns of extra savings from Orion’s modest salary. Long, iron-grey and thick, with a slight curve at the tip, it was stippled with electric nodes in pattern to match those inside Orion’s valve, a feat which had required a great deal of flexibility on Orion’s part, curling almost into a ball and utilizing his deep scanners to capture an image of himself. Apparently this was neither the silliest or most strange thing a bot had done in pursuit of sexual gratification, because the craftsbot had accepted the image file along with the laundry list of features Orion wanted and blithely given him an estimated date of completion.

Megatronus’s field spiked with uncertain arousal, but his expression grew tight. “You wish to use that on me.”

“No. Well, yes, _on_ you, but it will be going in me.”

Megatronus’s optic ridge rose and he looked intrigued. “Explain.”

Orion indicated the base, “Mag-clamps, here and here.” He made a little shooing motion with one hand. “Lie back and I’ll show you.”

Megatronus settled onto his back, legs spread and Orion mounted him, running an appreciative hand down his side as he situated himself above Megatronus’s interface hatch. “Open up.”

“I thought—”

“It can attach to almost anything, but it’s intended to affix to the interior of an array. The manual indicated the most sensation can be achieved that way.” He caressed Megatronus’s hatch. “Trust me?”

Megatronus shivered and opened under his hand. “Yes.” 

Orion slid his thumb across the top of Megatronus’s valve, dipping in slightly just to feel the other bot shudder in uncertain want before withdrawing and setting the base of the device over his valve, arranging the attachment points around it. He activated the device and it clamped down, magnetizing itself to metal and protoform.

Megatronus gasped and bucked, nearly unseating Orion and he released the device to brace himself. “Alright?” he said.

“Yes,” said Megatronus after a moment. “Just…unexpected.”

Orion hid a smile. The one time he’d given into embarrassed curiosity and attached it to himself he’d discovered that the attachment points created tiny magnetic fields which could be felt in the interior of the protoform surrounding the valve. Not enough to create an overload, but the initial sensation was quite pleasurable. “It gets better,” he said. “Help me get myself ready?”

Megatronus’s optics brightened. They’d already practiced this on the few times Megatronus had managed to visit Iacon and he made no secret of how much he enjoyed making Orion come apart with fingers and glossa. “Come here,” he husked.

Orion smiled and crawled up to straddle Megatronus’s shoulder guards, his hatch snapping open. He yelped as Megatronus yanked him down and vented warm air across his valve. “Little wretch,” Megatronus rumbled. “You knew that would happen.”

“Perhaps,” Orion laughed and gasped as Megatronus ran the flat of his glossa across his valve. Bracing his arms against the wall, he whimpered as Megatronus delved inside, seeking out sensor nodes. “Oh, there, please.”

A clawed finger slipped into him, moving with great care, trying to part his calipers without tearing the mesh. Megatronus was never entirely successful at this endeavor, but Orion couldn’t bring himself to complain, not when the slight prick of claws sent waves of strange pleasure through his sensor net. He moaned and ground down against Megatronus’s hand.

“Beautiful,” said Megatronus, his free hand sliding up Orion’s back as thick fingers stretched his valve. “So beautiful like this.”

“Want you,” Orion begged, optics blind as he clawed at the wall. “Want you in me.”

The hand at his back tightened. “Yes,” said Megatronus, his tone strangled. He withdrew his fingers abruptly and Orion cried out at the loss. “Hush now, I’ve got you.” He maneuvered Orion down into his lap, the head of the device bumping up against him. Orion’s valve dilated, trying to take it in and Megatronus braced him, gripping his pelvic span to keep him from descending too fast. “Slowly.”

Orion sobbed as he sank down, the device parting the lining of his valve, stretching his calipers to their limit. He moaned as he took it in fully and beneath him Megatronus let out a startled noise.

“What is this?” he said, hand snapping away from Orion and digging into the berth to keep from injuring him.

Orion struggled to regain his spinning processor. “Elec—Electromagnets,” he panted. “Magnetic field created when current is produced between its nodes and the nodes in a valve.” He rose and thrust back down. “Please…”

Megatronus growled and then suddenly the world upended as he rolled them, pressing Orion into the berth and hiking up his legs and then he was thrusting, all mass and power and so much charge and oh it was better than Orion could have ever dreamed. He cried out and clung to Megatronus as his capacitors tripped in overload and then again and again and static buzzed across his vision and his audials rang with Megatronus’s triumphant shout.

 

He came online to find Megatronus still inside him, weight braced on his forearms to keep from crushing Orion. His expression was transfixed.

Orion squirmed beneath him, shivering as the movement sent aftershocks through his valve, suddenly shy in the face of that direct stare. His field bumped against Megatronus’s and he paused at the feel of it, still crawling with charge. “You didn’t overload.”

Megatronus shook his head. “No,” he said. He did not seem overly troubled by this fact.

Made cautious by the strange flux of Megatronus’s field, Orion ran his hand down Megatronus’s front, past where the device joined them and slipped his fingers behind it, stroking Megatronus’s valve, pushing just inside. Charge snapped against his fingers and Megatronus shook above him.

Megatronus was very close, but Orion took it slowly, seeking out well-known clusters, dipping inside to caress the rim and rub against the seal, a motion which now made Megatronus push into Orion’s fingers rather than away. Megatronus let out a deep huff, helm clanking against the berth as it dropped to rest above Orion’s shoulder guards.

“Overload for me?” Orion said softly, pressing upwards against a line of sensors inside the rim.

Megatronus gasped and spasmed, valve clenching and something in Orion’s spark melted. He stroked Megatronus through the tremors and pulled himself off the device, easing the larger mech down on top of him and shifting his body up until Megatronus’s helm rested against his abdominal plating.

Megatronus vented deeply. “It is not necessary that I return tonight,” he said, a nearly inaudible sound, and Orion heard the unspoken question in it: _May I stay?_

Orion wrapped his arms around Megatronus’s helm. “Of course,” he said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very fond of the idea of Orion deflowering Megatronus. And just in case anyone thought I was kidding about the fisting tag.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” said Orion.

“No,” said Megatronus, blunt. “But I had never before considered the possibility and I…I want it to be you.” He gave a deep vent. “I want to give you this.”

“It isn’t something I would ever ask of you,” Orion said. “If you asked me to bond with you tomorrow, with the knowledge that our interfacing life would never change from what it is now, I would be satisfied.”

Megatronus’s mouth quirked in a small, rueful smile. “I know,” he said. “And that is why I want to do this.”

Orion stroked the edges of his valve. “Do you have any questions?”

Megatronus considered. “What does it feel like?”

Orion did not immediately go for the obvious, unspoken question: _Will it hurt?_ Megatronus was a champion of the arena, he knew pain in its many forms. “Full,” he said. “The lining of the valve stretches and charge and pressure on the internal nodes create a flow of current that eventually builds enough to cause an overload.” He spread the folds of Megatronus’s valve and vented air across it. “In short: it feels good, if a bit odd.”

Megatronus gave a hum of acknowledgement, but his field remained apprehensive and a bit ambivalent. Orion parted him further until he could see the faint glow of the seal. Flicking his glossa out to touch it, he continued. “These are made of mesh and microtubules filled with energon. The microtubule pattern is unique to each mech and they’re quite beautiful. Would you like to see mine?”

That got Megatronus’s attention. “But we—”

Orion smiled. “I have an image file, from when I was having that device that you like so much built.” His field pulsed with amusement. “Back when I was still pining over you.”

Megatronus’s systems revved with interest. “By all means.”

Orion nuzzled against his thigh and transmitted the file. Along with all the pertinent memory data of how he’d managed to obtain it of course.

Megatronus twitched beneath him. “That—”

“Would you like to see yours?”

Megatronus shuddered. “Yes.”

Pushing aside the edges of his valve, Orion activated his scanners, collecting a data imprint and transmitted it. “You’ve got the pattern of the Sharkticon and the Star Saber.”

Megatronus actually lifted his helm and stared down at him, optic ridge raised. “You look for constellations in them?”

Orion shrugged. “There was a gallery of them in _Solenoid’s Manual_ ,” he said. “Mine has the Glitchmouse and the Forge of Solus Prime, if you look carefully.”

“That blasted book,” muttered Megatronus. “I suppose I should count myself fortunate you didn’t bring stasis cuffs on our first date.”

Orion muffled a laugh into Megatronus’s plating. “Now where would be the fun in that?”

Megatronus snorted, but his ventilation hitched as Orion licked against his anterior nodes. Orion slipped his fingers inside, exerting gentle pressure on the seal.

“I will not ask you for this,” said Orion softly. “But I would like to show you good it can be.”

Megatronus offlined his optics. “Do it,” he said, claws digging into the berth.

Orion pressed the flat of his glossa against the seal, pushing just hard enough to let Megatronus feel it. “It is more pleasant if you relax.” He nudged his nasal ridge against the anterior clusters. “And if you can overload.” Pulling back, he began to rub at the folds of the valve. When he felt Megatronus begin to relax, he returned to licking the seal, softening and warming it.

Megatronus shifted as his charge built, panting as his plating grew hot under Orion’s fingers. At last he snapped rigid and sparks discharged across Orion’s face. Pushing forward firmly with his glossa, he felt the seal give, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of energon. Sliding his fingers in beside his glossa, he began to widen the opening, smoothing down the mesh to lay flat against the walls of Megatronus’s valve.

Withdrawing, he licked the energon and lubricant from his mouth. “Alright?” He pushed his fingers deeper into Megatronus’s valve, testing calipers which hitched down slightly against the unusual presence.

Megatronus made a sound of derision. “I am no weak and fragile thing, Orion.”

Orion curled his fingers towards Megatronus’s ventral plating and dragged them forward, sensor nodes sparking against the tips of his digits. Megatronus jerked under him and Orion hid a smile. “Of that I have no doubt.” He slid his fingers out and added another, marveling at the stretch of Megatronus’s valve, so much larger than his own. “So tell me, Mighty Megatronus, would you care to demonstrate your strength,” he twisted his fingers and spread them and Megatronus cursed “and adaptability?”

Megatronus cleared his vocalizer of static. “I can take whatever you have to offer.”

“Excellent,” said Orion “because there is something in the manual that I have always wanted to try.”

Megatronus’s head jerked up, optics onlining, his expression alarmed. “What did you have in mind?”

Orion kept his expression innocent even as he worked a fourth finger into Megatronus. “Nothing excessive.” His finger slipped in with delightful ease. “No whips or chains.” He pressed his thumb against the rim of Megatronus’s valve. “No suspending anyone from the ceiling.” He dipped his head and licked along the top of the valve where it stretched around his hand. “Merely a test of…flexibility.”

Megatronus vented sharply. He did not speak, but his valve rippled around Orion’s fingers, dilating open and he pushed against Orion’s hand.

Orion’s systems stalled as his thumb slid inside Megatronus, his hand sinking in past the wrist. Carefully he twisted it, hesitant at first, but as Megatronus showed no signs of discomfort, his calipers flexing before continuing to expand, Orion pressed on, fingers seeking out clusters of nodes his earlier scan had revealed, deeply set and placed such that it was doubtful they could be reached by a thrusting spike. Megatronus let out a little, choked noise as he found one. He took his time, circling the cluster before applying a firm, steady pressure. Lubricant gushed and Megatronus moaned.

Reaching up to rest his hand on Megatronus’s abdominal plating, Orion palpated between the plates, seeking out the flexible armor that protected his joints, feeling the slight internal stretch of mechanisms around his hand.

“How does it feel?” he whispered, not daring to raise his voice.

Megatronus trembled. “Odd, but good. It shouldn’t—”

Orion laid his helm against Megatronus’s thigh and gently raked his fingers over the cluster. “Forget shouldn’t,” he said gently as Megatronus gasped. “Shouldn’t has no place here. Tell me what you want.”

Megatronus’s field roiled. “The box,” he said at last, the words bitten out. “In me.”

Orion pressed his mouth briefly against the top of Megatronus’s valve. “Give me a moment.”

By the time he extracted himself and retrieved the box, Megatronus had already raised his legs, angling his pelvic span to give Orion access. Orion found himself thankful for even his brief playful practice for this moment as he fumbled with the device, fixing it to his array. Slicking the outside with his own lubricants and Megatronus’s, he guided the device to Megatronus’s valve. Megatronus gave a hiss as he sank inside.

Bracing himself, Orion paused, buried as deeply as he could go, to observe Megatronus’s face. It was doubtful the device could harm a mech so large, but there was a strange edge to Megatronus’s field. His optics were fixed somewhere in the middle distance.

“Megatronus?”

“When the first gladiatorial pits were carved out in Kaon,” Megatronus said, his optics still unfocused. “It was the right of the victor to tear open his opponent, to rut on him or in him, break him if he was still unbroken. One final insult before granting the mercy of death.” He laughed harshly. “Of course we are far more civilized than our ancestors; we merely behead one another while the crowd roars encouragement.” His optics focused on Orion, sharp. “Enjoy this, Orion Pax, the reward that would have gone to the one strong enough to conquer me in the arena. If such a one existed.”

Something contracted around Orion’s spark, but he held quite still, modulated his field even as Megatronus’s roared around them. “Is that what you need?” he said. “A conqueror?”

Megatronus’s mouth tightened and he did not reply.

Orion hitched his hips back and forth, a shallow thrust that made Megatronus buck and sent a wave of magnetic pleasure through Orion’s array. “No shame,” he murmured. “I have never wished to hurt or humiliate you. Only to show you what it was like. To share what you make me feel.” He ground down on the apex of the thrust in mimicry of a technique they’d discovered together, a motion that put pressure on the anterior nodes of a valve. “I am not afraid of your demons, or of you. We will talk, later, if that is what you wish. For now, stay with me?”

Megatronus’s hands rose, claws trailing up Orion’s chassis and leaving lines of charge in their wake. “Harder,” he said.

Orion obeyed.

It was a very different feeling, a pinpoint focus on his partner as he sought to drive Megatronus’s charge higher, a far cry from being the center of that overwhelming charge and power as he was when Megatronus took him. Fingers digging into the plating of Megatronus’s legs, Orion shifted his pelvic span up, raising himself off his knees as he thrust in, a constant driving rhythm. Their optics locked and Megatronus’s claws cut fine gouges into Orion’s plating, his body arching as he overloaded. His field broke over Orion with the strength of a tidal wave and Orion let out a choked cry as he overloaded, his hips pumping helplessly as his capacitors tripped and his valve clenched down against empty space.

Shaking, he sagged over Megatronus, resting his weight against plating so hot it seemed it must burn him. Easing the device out and disconnecting it, he made a discreet check of Megatronus’s valve for friction burns or tears. Thankfully there were none, though Megatronus groaned lowly as Orion probed between his legs.

Setting the device aside to be cleaned, Orion crawled atop Megatronus, stroking gently at the plates covering his chassis before setting down. This close, their fields sensitized, he could feel the pulse of Megatronus’s spark, a heavy throb that stood in stark contrast to the light hum of his own.

“Were you serious?” said Megatronus, his expression pensive.

“Serious about what?”

“You would wish to bond? With me?”

Orion did not answer at first. “It was not something I ever much considered. I am a product of my programming, as we all are, and the life of an archivist is often one of solitude.” He smiled. “But many things have changed since I first caught your little speech on the Grid. So yes, I would bond with you, if that is something you want.”

Megatronus was very quiet. “I had never thought to. In the mines I could not conceive of a future in which it would be possible or desired and in the arena…I could not conceive of a future.”

Orion wound their hands together and vocalized a quiet, mournful note.

“Now, I find myself desirous of a future, desirous of something beyond the purity of a just cause, something for myself.” He ran his thumb across the back of Orion’s hand, his expression conflicted. “But with our plans so close to fruition…and the meeting with the Council…” 

“After,” said Orion quietly. “Ask me after.”

“After,” agreed Megatronus, hands tightening around his.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a brief, post-series epilogue, because happy endings are my one weakness. Heads up, this contains MODERATE spoilers for Predacons Rising, namely that the ending turns out a bit differently. Hope you enjoyed this and thanks for reading.

He found Megatron among the ruins of Kolkular, scavenging the desolate rooms of the fortress for supplies. He did not look up as Optimus approached.

Optimus paused to watch him, rooting purposefully among the debris, heavy clawed hands turning over chunks of discarded metal. Megatron gave slight grunt of satisfaction, wrenched something from beneath the rubbish and held it up.

It was a cube of high grade.

“Impressive,” said Optimus.

“The spark never forgets core programming,” said Megatron. “Regardless of how many times the body is changed.” His head twitched as though he could shake off the elaborate helm fins. “Come to gloat?”

“No. To talk.”

“Then I will most definitely need this,” said Megatron, indicating the cube. “Care to join me?”

Still wary of Megatron’s continued good will, Optimus seated himself beside him, far enough to clear the now exaggerated spikes of his shoulder guards, but near enough that he could feel Megatron’s field which, though still conflicted, no longer carried the distressing frequency of Unicron’s influence.

Megatron opened the cube and took a long swill. “Altihex,” he said, “and still not aged enough to cut the acidity. Scorponok always did have terrible taste.” He passed the cube to Optimus.

Optimus accepted and sipped, the energon burning in his intake. “What do you intend to do?” he said.

“You never could let an idea go once it got ahold of you,” sighed Megatron, swiping the cube back. “If you are still worrying that I will change my mind and wipe your pathetic little colony off this planet, don’t. Those cycles are over. I wish to _rest_ , Optimus Prime. Resurrection is neither easy nor comfortable.”

“That is comforting,” said Optimus. “But that is not what I meant.”

“Oh?”

“The Matrix is gone, Megatron, returned to the Well that our species might have a future. I am no longer Prime. There will never be another Prime.”

“I see, and yet you are not Orion Pax either.”

“Orion Pax was never truly dead,” Optimus said. “But I will never be merely Orion, just as you will never be merely Megatronus.”

Megatron twitched at the mention of his old designation. “Why are you here?”

“I do not know,” said Optimus. “Our people are rebuilding, healing. This oncycle, when I looked across the rising buildings of Iacon, I realized they had no further need of me. So I sought a place where I might be needed.” He hesitated, “Or wanted.”

Megatron’s optics narrowed. “That is a great assumption, all things considered.”

“It is,” said Optimus. “But the spark is never entirely logical, and I have missed you.”

Megatron’s mouth tightened and he was silent for a long time. Then, slowly, he passed the cube to one hand and turned the other upwards, fingers open and offering.

Optimus rested his own hand there, fingers sliding through Megatron’s own. Megatron’s hand was no longer large enough to cover his, but the weight of it was still familiar and comforting.

“Do you want this?” he said softly.

Megatron’s ventilation caught and he set the cube down, out of the way. Reaching out, he hooked his claws in Optimus’s plating and drew him close.

It was slow, and painfully clumsy, relearning bodies reshaped by gods and by war. Their armor made it difficult, but at last they managed, propped upright on a pile of debris, Optimus draped across Megatron’s chest, fingers working in his valve.

Megatron traced the shapes of Optimus’s wings and he groaned, valve clenching down. “I wish that the device had not been lost after Polyhex,” he confessed, allowing himself a selfish moment of mourning that he had not managed to grab it when they fled. “I would have liked to feel you inside me again.”

Megatron went still under him and Optimus made a puzzled, disappointed sound at the loss of stimulation. The hand left his wings and he lifted his head to watch as Megatron rummaged through his subspace.

His optics widened as Megatron withdrew a terribly familiar box. “You found it?” He cleared his vocalizer of static as his processor presented him with a far more pressing question. “You _kept_ it?”

Megatron’s field spiked with embarrassment. “I certainly wasn’t going to throw it out where it could be found and used by anyone. Your valve is _mine_ , even if it is inside out.”

Optimus couldn’t help a tiny snort of laughter. “And am I to presume that you made use of it? Or did you merely keep it on a shelf to brood over?”

Megatron’s embarrassment spiked higher. “It was as I said,” he said quietly. “That part of me was for the one who could defeat me in battle, no other.”

Optimus’s ventilation hitched and his amusement cooled. Nuzzling against Megatron’s plating in apology, he pulsed out warmth and affection. “I do not deny that I would like to have you again that way again, but for now, I want you in me. Please?”

Megatron held up the box with his free hand and Optimus obligingly flicked open the clasps and lifted the lid. Even if Megatron had denied it, the device was far too meticulously clean for vorns of non-use. 

“It looks rather smaller than it once did.”

Megatron shot him a withering look. His fingers gave a vindictive twist and Optimus gasped and bucked.

“Point taken,” he managed. Lifting the device, he shifted back a bit, moaning as the motion shifted Megatron’s claws. Fumbling, he locked down the attachment points and grasped at Megatron’s shoulder guards. “Please,” his voice was rife with static.

Megatron’s fingers withdrew and then he was pushing inside him.

It fit differently than it once did, the stretch of his calipers comfortable rather than borderline painful. But as Megatron sank in he became aware of something off. He shifted and made a noise of surprise.

“What’s wrong?”

“The nodes,” said Optimus, optic ridges furrowing. “They don’t fit.”

“Don’t fit?”

“They’re not hitting in the same places.”

Megatron’s optic ridges rose. “The Matrix rearranged your valve nodes?” His voice was thick with incredulity.

“Or the Forge,” said Optimus, not a little put out. “I hadn’t exactly been keeping track of them.”

Megatron’s field pulsed with smug triumph. “Then I suppose we shall have to find them the old-fashioned way.” He gave a firm thrust upwards to illustrate his point.

Optimus gasped and thrust back down, conceding. After all, it wasn’t as if those mechs sparked with spikes and valves had equipment that matched up and they managed just fine.

Perhaps he could convince Ratchet to tinker with the device a bit. 

As they rocked together, Optimus found himself strangely off-balance, the once-easy motions of interfacing strange and unwieldy. But the pulse of Megatron’s spark felt as it always did, a lodestone of familiarity that called to his own and he was both unable and unwilling to fight as the clasps of his chassis unlocked and retracted, baring his spark.

Megatron’s optics spiraled open. “Are you sure this is wise?” he said, even as the clasps of his chassis clicked open.

“I have given everything for the sake of my people,” said Optimus. “I would like to remember what it is like to desire something for myself.”

Megatron nodded. “I have lost the right to ask you—”

“Yes,” said Optimus. “The answer has always been yes.”

Megatron embraced him and Optimus cried out as their sparks touched, an eager joining that sent him hurtling into the depths of Megatron’s psyche. And there, beneath the layers of hurt and anger and jealousy, vorns of emptiness, beat a tiny joyful core, a core which had formed when a young archivist had looked at an old, wearied gladiator and seen something worth loving.

Optimus embraced the little flame as their sparks knitted and offered the core of his own feelings, the uncomplicated adoration given depth by time. He felt Megatron brush aside the consuming loss and sorrow and draw it to himself.

_Mine._

_Yours._

The overload rushed over them like a hurricane, leaving behind untold destruction, but also a quiet in its wake, a space into which things could be rebuilt, into which new things could grow.

Optimus rested against Megatron’s chassis, their hands entwined, and watched the sun rise over Cybertron.


End file.
